


I believe that you are pushing your luck

by Cirkne



Series: heart as loud as lions [2]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Mentions of Blood, Modern AU, Multi, angsty but not that much and also happy ending, mentions of abuse, mute Alexander, there's a panic attack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-07-24 14:28:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7511827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cirkne/pseuds/Cirkne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"So where's this Maria, anyway? Did you send her back to her boyfriend?"</i>
</p><p> </p><p>  <i>"Of course not," John answers, has to remind himself to not be offended Lafayette would assume that. "Her boyfriend's out of town and she couldn't handle being around people she barely knew for long."</i></p><p>  <i>"Ok," Lafayette says. "What are we going to do once he comes back?"</i></p><p>  <i>"Kill him," John answers.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	I believe that you are pushing your luck

**Author's Note:**

> title from father by the front bottoms which honestly is such a john laurens song it makes me scream

Alexander brings her to him. She looks his sister's age, but younger at the same time. Fragile. Her sweater is too big on her and she's wearing something underneath, something with a high collar. Covered up. Her lips are bitten down, her hands trembling. She looks small in front of him even if he isn't much taller.

"Alexander?" John asks, turns to look at him. Alexander's not looking back at him, but at her. Something soft in his eyes. He looks at John like that sometimes, makes his skin crawl. "Alexander?" he repeats.

Alexander turns to him, a silent pleading in his eyes. He motions to John's phone. John unlocks it. His lockscreen is a picture of Hercules, Alexander thrown over his shoulder, grinning. There's three unread texts. All from Alexander.

"Maria," John says and she shifts in place, acknowledges him, but doesn't look up. John wishes, selfishly, that Lafayette was here. They'd know what to say. He doesn't. Doesn't know why Alexander brought her to _him_. He can't deal with his own shit, what is he supposed to do with her?

He looks at Alexander and Alexander is looking back at him, expectant. Of course he is. He forgets, constantly, that John isn't perfect. Idealizes him, idealizes all three of them. Hercules makes John and Lafayette stay quiet about it. So Alexander forgets, thinks he's the only damaged person in the world. He's still looking at John. John swallows. Loves him more than anything.

"Would you like something?" John asks turning back to Maria. Her hair's covering her neck. "I can make tea. Or food, if you'd like that."

"No thank you," Maria says, pulls at her sleeve. Alexander moves to John and she flinches. Alexander stops, a pained look on his face, reaches for John. John's looking at Maria, but he takes Alexander's hand instinctively. Maria looks like she's trying to make herself smaller, like she wants to fold into herself. Makes John want to find her boyfriend, punch him in the face. Keep punching him. Alexander squeezes his hand.

"Would you like to talk?" John asks, tries to sound as calm as he can. She looks up at him finally. Brown eyes. Looks like she’s going to ask him why and then she looks back down, doesn't answer him. John looks at Alexander. Black eyes, eyebrow raised, unimpressed. Keeps looking at him. John will write a book on silent communication one day. All of his examples will include Alexander. 

"I want to be able to help you," John says to Maria, makes a point of not softening his voice, of not talking to her like a child. "But I need you to talk to me, ok?"

Alexander picks at his phone, lets go of John's hand to tap at it, shoves it in John's face. Maria's watching it happen, still quiet. _Tell her you won't get angry_ , Alexander has typed out. It makes John feel foul, makes him think of his father yelling at him, makes him think of yelling back, furious. He looks at her; her eyes are fixated on their feet.

"I promise you you're safe here," he tells her instead. Alexander puts his phone back in his pocket. Maria nods, leans back against the door, still doesn't say anything. John realizes that their apartment is probably not the best place to talk to her.

"I tried to seduce Alexander," she says, hurriedly, before he can open his mouth. Alexander grabs at John's hand again, squeezes it just a little too hard. "I'm sorry, I knew he had someone and I still. I'm sorry, I'm-"

"That's ok," John interrupts and she stops talking immediately, folds into herself again. He's not angry. Not at her, at least. Touch starved, is how Lafayette described him, a week after they first met. Affection hungry. There's something to be said about a person who thinks that their body is all they have to offer. Something to be said about the person that's made them feel that way. John wonders if he could get away with killing Maria's boyfriend. Something tight clots up in his chest.

*

Alexander in his lap, Alexander kissing him, kissing every naked inch of his skin he can reach, kissing his hairline.

"Shit," John breathes when Alexander reaches his neck. "You can't do this right now," and yet, he is not moving to stop him. He doesn't like himself like this, doesn't like his bones aching with anger, doesn't like Alexander on top of him, treating him like he's perfect. Alexander kisses his collarbone. John closes his eyes.

Alexander's selfish. Self-conceited. Thinks everything is about him. Thinks they love him less for it. Thinks he's an inconvenience to them. Thinks this is all pity. Thinks he has to repay them somehow.

"Alexander," John says, Alexander's hands under his shirt. "Stop." Alexander does. Pulls away, moves to get off of his lap. John holds him in place. In his wallet John has a folded piece of paper Alexander gave to him once, _Use your fucking words you dipshit_ , written on it in beautiful cursive. "Just- breathe with me, ok?"

Alexander nods, rests his head against John's shoulder. John can feel his heartbeat. Closes his eyes again. He thinks of Maria and then of his sisters back home. They've stopped answering his calls. He doesn't blame them, still feels like shit for leaving them.

Lafayette finds them like that later, watches them from the doorway for a moment. John's legs have gone numb. Alexander's asleep against him, his breath warm on John's neck.

"Rough day?" Lafayette asks, quiet, moves to sit next to them on the couch. "Alex texted me about bringing some girl home?"

"Maria," John answers, laces their fingers together once Lafayette's pressed next to him. Lafayette lifts Alexander's legs, rests them on their lap. "She tried to seduce him and he brought her to me because her boyfriend's abusing her," he sighs, turns to look at Lafayette, doesn't know what else to say.

"It made you angry?" Lafayette asks, drags their thumb on John's skin.

"Not at them," John says, looks at Alexander, his eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks. "Never at- it just happens, you know?" He turns back to Lafayette; they are watching him, listening. "If I'm angry I don't have to be sad."

"I know," Lafayette answers. John's said the same words a thousand times before. It's starting to sound empty. Pointless. They still take it, every time. _Fuck, I just want to punch something_ , he says and they nod like it's a request that makes sense.

Alexander flinches in his sleep, John tightens his grip on Alexander's side, both him and Lafayette still, watch Alexander for a moment. He doesn't wake up. They're supposed to let him, he gets upset when he sleeps for too long, feels like he's not doing enough, but he also shakes and sweats and passes out in his office when he doesn't sleep at all.

They stay quiet until they're sure they won't wake Alexander and John turns to Lafayette.

"So how was your day?" he asks. Lafayette rolls their eyes. They don't like small talk, John knows this. Still asks every time.

"It was fine," they answer, lean in to kiss him, their free hand under his chin. John kisses back happily, wishes he could tangle his fingers in their hair but doesn't want to let go of their hand or of Alexander. They pull away too quickly. 

"So where's this Maria, anyway? Did you send her back to her boyfriend?"

"Of course not," John answers, has to remind himself to not be offended Lafayette would assume that. "Her boyfriend's out of town and she couldn't handle being around people she barely knew for long."

"Ok," Lafayette says. "What are we going to do once he comes back?"

"Kill him," John answers. Doesn't know if he means it, doesn't know if Lafayette is being serious when they nod in agreement.

*

John dreams of blood spilling from his gums, dripping down his teeth and his lips, dreams of bloody red hands. He wakes up in bed alone. Hercules is in their living room, a needle pressed between his lips, eyes on some blue material. He looks good like this, looks calm and soft and like he's too good for everything around him. John almost goes back to bed. He thinks of blood in his mouth. Almost.

"Hercules?" he asks, winces at how quiet his voice is, doesn't sound like it belongs to him. Hercules turns to him, takes the needle into his hand, waits for him to continue. John's asked for it before. "I need you to choke me," he says. _Need you to,_ because Hercules would say no otherwise.

"Right now?" Hercules asks, looks at whatever he's working on.

"This isn't exactly something I can postpone until your earliest convenience," John spits and then bites his cheek, squeezes his eyes shut for a moment. "Sorry."

"It's okay," Hercules answers, sticks the needle into the arm of their couch. Usually John would give him shit for doing that. Now he moves to the bedroom, Hercules follows after him.

The closet door is open and John can see himself in the mirror. He's wearing Alexander's shirt and booty shorts, bare feet. His socks must still be tangled somewhere in the sheets. He looks pathetic, slams the closet door shut.

"How do you want this?" Hercules asks, pulls a hair tie from his wrist. He carries them on him constantly. John wonders if it looks weird to people that don't know him. Hercules takes John's hair in his hands, ties it up into a bun.

John falls back on the bed, his body limp against the matress. It feels good like this, like his body isn't actually his. Hercules stands at the edge of the bed for a moment, bumps his knees against John's. He's always hesitant at first, always careful, afraid John won't be able to take it.

"Hurry up," John says, his palms are starting to get sweaty, he closes his eyes, imagines blood in his mouth.

The matress dips from Hercules' weight. The door bell rings. John wants to tell him to ignore it, wants to feel Hercules' fingers dig into his skin, wants to completely lose himself, wants Hercules to keep going even after there's tears in his eyes. Wants, wants, wants. Hercules leaves to open the door.

John can hear Maria explaining herself to Hercules and he can hear Hercules say: "Just don't talk to John right now."

They need to change the sheets. John thinks of fitting himself into their washing machine and turning it on, thinks of the metal digging into his back, thinks of water surrounding him, thinks of spinning and spinning and staying alive just to feel the pain.

John reads everything Alexander tells him to, even the things he doesn't understand. There's a line in a poem Alexander has printed out and shoved in the middle of a book he's made John read. _The wind hums under my veins, pulls me towards a fight_. John thinks of that sometimes. He thinks of it now, thinks of Maria in their living room, talking to Hercules. She's here to ask for help. John closes his eyes, breathes. He can still taste copper.

Hercules opens the bedroom door moments later. John isn't looking at him but he knows he's standing in the doorway, watching him.

"Do you still need me to?" he asks, doesn't say the actual words. John breathes out to calm himself, counts to five in his head, doesn't get any less annoyed by the fact that Hercules treats it- him like this. He wants to say something, wants to bite, wants to tell Hercules to fuck off.

"Hercules?" Maria calls, barely louder than a whisper, her voice just as shaky as it was two days ago when Alexander brought her here.

"Just a second," Hercules answers her, closes the door behind him, stays standing for a really long moment. "John?"

"No, I don't need you to choke me anymore," John says, tries to not make it sound sarcastic. If he fails, Hercules doesn't react. "How's Maria?"

"Good. I think- I mean, as much as she can be good right now, you know? Her boyfriend's not home yet but he called her and she- shit, John, she said she packed everything she owns but she only has one bag with her. How can you fit your entire life into a bag? It's worse than when Alexander first got to the States."

John remembers Alexander then. Alexander with a suitcase filled with books and letters and essays. Alexander with his hair too short for his face and his clothes too thin for the weather. Alexander with so much to say and no voice.

"You should probably go see what she wanted," John reminds him after neither of them say anything.

"Yeah," Hercules agrees, opens the bedroom door. "I love you," he tells him and closes it, doesn't wait for John to say it back.

*

His name is James Reynolds. He calls and yells and Maria turns her phone off eventually, begs them not to do anything. Begs John not to do anything. John slams the bedroom door shut, leaves her in the living room. Lafayette comes after him.

"You need to calm down," they hiss, sharp. John looks at his hands, moves his fingers, shuts his eyes. "Hit me if you need to," Lafayette says, John whips his head to look at them.

"I would never," he says, hopes Lafayette knows this already, hopes that the fights he puts up against them are never taken seriously. Suddenly feels a lot smaller, a lot worse.

"Don't scare her, John," Lafayette tells him, but softer now. "She has no place to go."

"I know," John answers, sits down on their bed, sighs. Lafayette comes up to sit beside him, their legs pressed to each other. "It's just," he says, looks up at their ceiling. "You heard what he said, didn't you? What he called her?"

John can see Lafayette nod out of the corner of his eye. Of course they did. They all did. Maria lifted her knees to her chest, Alexander took the phone from her hands, hung up. 

John isn't used to it like this. His father- his father loves him, didn't know he was doing wrong. Reynolds knows. It makes John nauseous.

Hercules opens the door. John feels like he's in the principal's office, his father coming in from work, disappointed, telling them that John would never do what they're saying he did. He used to hope, then, that he'll get in trouble at least once. That they won't take his father's money, won't pretend that John didn't do anything wrong.

Hercules is frowning.

"John Laurens," he says, something mean in it, something like an insult in his last name. "You made Maria think you hate her."

John winces, stands up. Hercules pulls him to his chest. A little too rough, doesn't seem like he cares. John leans into him fully, breathes out, Hercules' hands are on his sides, pressing into his skin.

"This isn't about you, John," he says. John breathes, nods against his skin. He knows this, should know this but Alexander brought Maria to _him_ and it makes him feel like it is.

"I'm going to check on Alex and Maria," Lafayette says, rests a hand on John's shoulder for a moment as they're passing him. "Take your time."

Hercules moves his hand to rub circles on John's lower back. He smells like melon shower gel, makes John feel safe, makes worry settle in his stomach because he realizes Maria doesn't have that.

"I'm being selfish," John says into Hercules' shoulder, thinks about pulling away, stays standing in place.

"Yes," Hercules answers easily, his hand warm through John's t-shirt. "You're allowed to sometimes."

"Sometimes," John echoes. "Not right now."

Hercules doesn't say anything else. Doesn't lie to him. John listens to his heartbeat, lets it calm him down. Behind the closed door, there's words he can't make out. He thinks, Hercules is always there dealing with him. He thinks, Hercules would know what to say to Maria, but he's here with John instead.

"Love you," he whispers. Hercules kisses his hair, waits. John pulls away from him, smooths down his shirt, goes for the door. Hercules follows him out.

Maria's on the couch, closer to Alexander than she is to Lafayette. Alexander has his arm around her shoulders. Her phone lies screen up on their table. Lafayette turns their head to look at John, pats the space next to them.

"Better?" they ask when John sits down, puts their hand around his waist. John nods, leans into them.

"I'm sorry," John says. Maria fidgets with her hands, nods, doesn't look at him. Alexander does, smiles softly above Maria's head. John smiles back for a moment before he catches himself, clears his throat. 

"What now?" he asks. None of them answer him.

*

John finds her in their bathroom, her knees pressed to the tiles, her hands gripping the toilet seat, her hair falling on her face. She doesn't look at him. She never looks at him.

"Are you ok?" he asks and bites the inside of his cheek. What a stupid question. _She's shaking_. "Sorry, I mean-"

"Yes," Maria answers, her voice weak and like it hurts her to speak. "I had a nightmare, I'm sorry, go back to bed." 

John doesn't know sign language, hasn't learned it yet but he's picked up some things. Once Alexander signed _I'm sorry_ , over and over for a half hour. John doesn't remember why but he remembers Alexander's hands shaking. Maria says it and it's the most broken sound he's ever heard.

"I'm not James," John tells her and tries not to let anger slip in his voice when he says the name. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Maria doesn't answer for a long time. John sits down on the floor, makes sure he's not touching her. He tries to remember himself like this but he's always known anger before he's known fear. She's still not looking at him.

"Why you?" she asks eventually, but she hasn't moved even a muscle and John wonders if he's imagining it. Blinks, shakes his head. "Why not Lafayette or Hercules? Why did Alexander bring me to you?" She reminds him of his sisters again. _Why you?_

The answer he's supposed to give her, the answer she's waiting for is: My father was abusive too. John inhales, and it's shaky he realizes and he's watching her back move as she breathes. It's still dark outside, he knows this and the bathroom lights feel too hot on his skin.

"I don't know," he says, something tight in his throat. "I never asked him, it's not like I could have asked him," he's not talking about Alexander. He's not talking to Maria at all. He's sitting on his younger sister's bed at the age of fifteen, his collarbone broken and he's crying and he's trying to explain this to her, he's trying to explain everything but he doesn't have the answers and god, he's fifteen and he doesn't know why this is happening and he wishes he knew, god he can't breathe, he wishes he-

"John," and it's not his sister's voice. "John, hey, do you know where you are? Breathe, John, can you feel the tiles against your skin? You hear my voice? It's Hercules, John, focus on my voice, hey, you're okay, you're safe here, you know that, you're with us, you're home. Can you see where you are?" John blinks until he can, Hercules pauses and then: "Baby,"

"Don't call me that," John hisses. The lights hurt his eyes, he closes them again.

"Yeah?" Hercules asks, something happy in his voice. "Tell me how much you hate it, baby."

"Hercules, I swear to god, you fucking piece of shit," John says and sits up, reaches for the wall to steady himself. When he opens his eyes, Maria is standing behind Hercules, eyes wide and worried and John digs his nails into his thigh, realizes what just happened. "Fuck," he curses.

"Hasn't been this bad in awhile," Hercules says and Alexander comes up behind him, pushes Hercules away with his knee, walks into the bathroom. The space is too small for the three of them, but John doesn't tell him to leave, takes the glass of water Alexander is handing him.

They stay quiet until Lafayette walks out of the bedroom.

"I called Eliza," they say. John can barely see them, the bathroom light doesn't reach them yet and John wants to be in the dark, closes his eyes shut again. Alexander presses his fingers to the back of John's hand. Light, just to let him know where he is. "She'll be here in twenty minutes."

"You think you can get ready in twenty minutes?" Hercules asks and John wants to say: ready for what? but then Maria is answering instead:

"Yes, I just need to change," her voice is strangled, quiet, the way it always is, but different somehow. John swallows.

"What?" John asks. Lafayette tells Maria to go change in their bedroom. John listens to her footsteps on the floor, listens to their bedroom door open and close. They don't answer him. "What's happening?"

"Maria's going to stay with Eliza," Hercules says after a beat. Alexander's started to rub circles on John's hand. John's still holding the glass of water to his lips.

"Did I scare her?" he asks and Alexander is taking the glass out of his hand, pulling John against himself. John thinks, Alexander probably shouldn't be doing this, but he goes with him, rests his head against Alexander's shoulder.

"We're not doing this for her, John," Lafayette says what Alexander is trying to let him know through touches and his fingers in John's hair. "We're doing it for you."

Oh, John thinks. Their bedroom door opens and closes again.

"The light hurts my eyes," John says, Hercules reaches out to help him stand up.

*

Four hours later Hercules asks, quiet, soft:

"Can I touch you?"

John turns around in bed, doesn't answer him. They ask Alexander. They don't ask him. There's this whole thing about how he loves them, loves them more than he thought he was capable of and yet he's so angry.

"John," Hercules says. There are rules in their home. They talk because Alexander cannot. "He wrote you a letter," Hercules tells him. John lifts his knees up to his chest. "I don't know when he's giving it to you, but he wrote it. You have to get your words back before he gives it to you, okay?"

John nods. Hercules doesn't move away from the bed. It's cold. John closes his eyes, thinks about asking Hercules to lay down with him but he's so angry, doesn't want to say the wrong thing.

 _What are you angry about?_ Lafayette would ask, they always do. John thinks. Drums his fingers against his rib cage. Everything, he wants to say. Anger is in his bones, his skin and his blood. 

"Hey," Hercules says like he's talking to a child, makes John's blood boil. "You're shaking."

"Don't talk to me like that," John hisses but Hercules is right, he's shaking. It's not his fault. It's cold in the room, he curls more into himself. He should probably get a blanket. Thinks about it, thinks about it more. He will, in a moment. Thinks about it.

"I want to make you feel better, John, but I need you to talk to me," Hercules says. Oh, John thinks. Didn't he say something similar to Maria when she first showed up? He can't remember now. He thinks he did. "Can I touch you?"

"Yes," John breathes, waits, counts to six. Six and then Hercules is pressed to his back, arm around his waist. John waits. Doesn't know what he's waiting for, turns around. His face in Hercules' chest, warm. "What's in the letter?"

"An apology, I think. I didn't read it, he'd kill me, but I think he blames himself since he brought Maria here."

"It's not his fault," John says but it doesn't mean anything. Alexander thinks everything is his fault.

"He's just worried," Hercules says. "He loves you," like John ever needs reminding. He knows, he's always known. Sometimes he thinks he loves Alexander more than he loves himself. It's not a good thing, but it works for him, works for all of them. 

"I need to talk to him," John says, fingers clutching at Hercules' shirt. He doesn't want to let go.

"You do," Hercules agrees, but he's not letting go either. John can hear the front door open. Lafayette is home from the store. He closes his eyes.

"I don't want to talk about it yet," he says, pushes away from Hercules to look up at him. Hercules is looking back, loving eyes. John forgets sometimes, how they make him feel. "Kiss me for good luck?"

Hercules leans in, smiling, lips soft, hands warm on John's back. It's slow and John melts into it, the way he always melts into Hercules, makes a sound in the back of his throat, licks his way into Hercules' mouth.

Lafayette opens the door. Alexander's with him, John doesn't need to look to know. He pulls away, rests his forehead against Hercules' chest, breathes. 

"We're going out," Lafayette says. John waits for the joke to hit him, but it doesn't. The words hang in the air, he doesn't answer. "John," Lafayette says, the way they always speak to him. "Trust me, okay?"

John nods, realizes he's hidden from them by Hercules and clears his throat, says: "Okay."

They get him out of bed and then get him dressed and they don't make him shower but he washes his face and brushes his teeth over the sink in the kitchen. He doesn't let them help him down the stairs because he's not a child, but he doesn't resist when Alexander reaches to buckle his seatbelt, leans in to let him kiss the top of his head.

It's too hot in the car. John folds his hands in his lap and tries not to frown at the sun in his eyes. Doesn't ask where they're taking him, doesn't complain about the songs on the radio. Waits.

It's an hour drive, maybe more. John doesn't exactly keep track, but then they're in a field and he lays down on a blanket under a tree, a root digging into his side. It all smells like cut grass. Reminds him of his childhood, of the little glimmers of good he had.

Lafayette braids his hair, puts flowers in it. John can't see what they look like, but he doesn't care. He watches Alexander in Hercules' lap for awhile and then he closes his eyes. Breathes. In and out, breathes better, breathes for a really long time before they make him talk.

"Do you want to tell us?" Lafayette asks eventually. John wets his lips, his mouth is dry, he doesn't open his eyes. They wait for him, Lafayette's fingers now on his back, tracing his spine. Slow, gentle.

"She's so afraid of him," he starts, pauses, doesn't know how he wants to word this, but continues: "And I keep trying to convince myself I was never that afraid, but I think," he thinks if he opens his eyes, he'll cry. Keeps them closed. "I blocked out the fear somehow, replaced it with anger and then," his words are starting to get shaky. Alexander takes his hand. His fingers rough to the touch, cold. "Maria made all of it come back, somehow."

There's a beat and then it all hits him, suddenly and he's crying, curling into himself, trying to make himself as small as he can and he feels so tired. He didn't realize he was this tired. Lafayette stops tracing his spine with their fingers, rests them on his ribcage instead and Alexander squeezes his hand a little harder and they let him cry.

He calms down and thinks of cut grass and the sun reaching his skin through tree branches and the roots digging into his side and he doesn't think of his father but of Hercules, Alexander, and Lafayette, here with him and he opens his eyes to look at them.

A leaf falls down on the blanket next to John and when he reaches to touch his hair there are still flowers in it and the tight pain in his chest starts to unclot itself, slowly.

**Author's Note:**

> "The wind hums under my veins, pulls me towards a fight" is from[ this beautiful lams poem](http://wordghosts.tumblr.com/post/146832333824/i-it-was-almost-a-secret-that-i-believed-in) by my friend Kaylee.
> 
> i promise there'll be more of Maria and she'll get actual character development instead of just being there.
> 
> hit me up on [twitter](https://twitter.com/tadaffodil) if you feel like it


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